


Lit the Fuse and Ran a Mile

by gilligankane



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Brittany in five songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lit the Fuse and Ran a Mile

You’re All I Have – Snow Patrol

There’s a hidden part of Santana that people can’t find, or stop looking for after a while. It’s stored away so deeply, in such a dark space around between her rib bones, that no one can see it; not with a flashlight, or a compass, or a map.

Brittany can find it, with her hands or her mouth or her heart.

It was an accident, at first, because she kind of just stumbled on it somewhere in between eighth grade pool parties and their first Cheerios practice. But once she found it, she couldn’t just forget about it. She couldn’t think about anything else but that one tiny spot of black tucked away like a flower pressed into a book; forgotten and ignored.

She decided that she would hold onto that spot, that one little piece of Santana that no one else could see, because it made her special, the same way Glee made Rachel special; it made her different from everyone else who ever saw Santana.

She clings to it, because in her hands, it shines a little and the darkness fades enough for her to see Santana the way Santana really looks and it’s the prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

\---

Cut Short – The Honorary Title (AU)

"How old are you again?"

Santana, fresh out of high school, her graduation clothes scattered on the floor of her backseat, frowns. "What does it matter?"

The blond smiles – which really just annoys Santana a little – and smoothes back the hair plastered to Santana’s forehead, hooking it around her ears and cooing, "I’m just asking."

"I’m old enough," Santana says assuredly. Her hands slide up under the blond’s white beater, tracing sweat-sticky abs, following the same path her tongue has already taken once. "Old enough to do that again," she adds.

"Oh yeah?" the blond asks, her smile growing wider as she leans in, biting gently at the juncture of Santana’s neck and shoulder.

Santana makes a noise that sounds like  _yes_  and pulls back enough to say, "But we shouldn’t do it here. We should go somewhere else."

"Your place?"

When Santana doesn’t answer, the blond looks back up and smirks. "Something wrong with your place?"

She’s about to say  _my parents will kill the mood_  but as she opens her mouth, something pounds against the window, scaring her enough to pull the blond closer even as she turns her head, the raw cotton of the beater cutting into her bare torso.

"Shit," she curses.

The police officer gives her a lewd smile, tipping his hat. "Afternoon ladies."

\---

Last Song – Lucero

"Dance with me."

It’s a command, not a question, but Santana was going to say  _I will_  anyway, so she stands and lets Brittany lace their fingers together and lead them across the dance floor to a spot almost in the corner by the stereo.

The band has slowed it down; the night is coming to an end and this whole time, she’s ignored their songs about leaving and staying and loving and letting go.

"This is it." Again, Brittany isn’t asking, so Santana doesn’t answer, content to step a little closer, her hand sliding a little further to the small of Brittany’s back, pressing against the cool silk of her dress, Brittany’s breath beating against her bare shoulders. "These are the best of days," Brittany hums in time with the music.

"There’ll be better ones," she sings under her breath in a completely different tune. Brittany’s blue eyes, navy in the lack of lighting, lock with her own.

Brittany nods after a minute and smiles slowly in time with the stretching of Santana’s heart muscles.

Vaguely, she hears the song coming to a close; hears the lead singer wishing the class of 2012 good luck in the real world; hears the lights start to hum as they turn on; hears the chairs scrap against the gym floor as people escape into the night, headed for home and hotel rooms.

"Don’t stop dancing with me."

It’s a command, not a question, but Santana was going to say  _I won’t_  anyway, so she lets Brittany lead her around the empty dance floor until someone tells her it’s time to go home.

\---

Everything – Michael Buble

Santana melts every time Brittany looks ever way.

Everyone laughs about it like it’s some big joke, like they can’t imagine that tough exterior is really just a gooey mess every time Brittany bats her doe eyes at Santana.

They all think it’s hilarious and while Santana will glare and threaten them, she won’t deny it because it’s true.

Brittany forgets to do her homework? She pulls on the hem of her top and Santana passes hers over without a word. Brittany opens a locker, hitting Santana in the face? She runs her hands up and down Santana’s arms, kissing the black eye over and over again and Santana doesn’t even care what she looks like in the morning. Brittany bites her bottom lip, looks up through her lashes and whispers  _I love you_?

Santana melts.

Like ice cream in the middle of July; like ice left out of a cooler; like Frosty the Snowman in the sun.

Brittany smiles at her from across the room, one arm slung across Rachel’s shoulders as she turns back to their conversation.

Santana melts.

\---

Hazy – Rosi Golan (featuring William Fitzsimmons)

Morning comes and Brittany hasn’t slept yet, content to prop her arm up under her head and watch Santana sleep soundly, tracing the line of her body with blue eyes.

This time, it feels different.

It feels clearer, more precise.

It feels  _real_.

It feels like everything Santana has promised her will actually become a reality this time. She thinks about waking Santana and telling her, asking her, talking to her, but she doesn’t. She only pulls the sheet up a little higher around both of them and settles her head back down, her forehead pressing against the bed-warm skin of Santana’s neck, murmuring words that aren’t words.

But Santana would understand them anyway.

\------

Santana rolls over smoothly and almost swallows a mouthful of blond hair, but closes her mouth at the last second, her arms wrapping around Brittany’s torso.

She blinks a few times until the world isn’t a blur and the shapes on the ceiling come into focus, sharp as anything, clear in the late morning.

"Morning," she whispers, not expecting a response.

Brittany only shifts back against her, filling the empty space Santana created.

She smiles at no one and figures that if Brittany is still sleeping, there’s no reason to be awake. She lets her eyes close again and when she opens them, Brittany is still there, clear as anything Santana has ever seen in her life.

She swears, as she drifts back to sleep, she hears Brittany whispering to her, but the words don’t really make sense.

They don’t really need to, either.


End file.
